


Bigger Than You, Bigger Than Me

by Lothiriel84



Series: Signs [4]
Category: The Bunker (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Asexual Character, Background Relationships, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Let's make this desert full of howl.





	Bigger Than You, Bigger Than Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsmilch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsmilch/gifts).



David hadn’t talked much for the rest of the day, which was fine by him, so long as he didn’t completely shut them off in the days to come. He thought of that time David had elected not to speak a single word to either of them for a grand total of three months, until Tom had managed to piss him off so badly he’d started shouting death threats at him, much to Dave’s relief; he decided he wasn’t going to let that happen ever again, no matter how many days, months, hours or centuries, they still had to live.

He remembered how he’d found a few leftover teabags while clearing the cupboards a couple of weeks ago, fetched them as he waited for the electric kettle to boil. Tom had sworn off coffee after the recent events, and while he himself couldn’t imagine going without his daily intake of tepid, bittersweet caffeine, he could see exactly where his friend was coming from.

(And yes, he thought of Tom as a friend, regardless of the fact that he occasionally enjoyed taking digs at the man about as much as David did. Hell, he even thought of David as a friend, even after everything that had happened over the last few days, never mind how the latest developments had considerably altered their little arrangement that had kept him going over the past decades.)

Tea it was, then. He brewed two mugs, added a spoonful of sugar to his own, and two to Tom’s beverage; the man liked his coffee bitter and his tea sweet, and after a century of being trapped underground with someone you just stop questioning their likes and dislikes, at least within reason.

He smirked somewhat fondly as he was suddenly reminded of a dreadful argument the three of them had had within the first couple of months of their forced cohabitation; he’d been the one to accidentally mess up David’s complex system for sorting the cutlery, but in the end it was Tom’s remark about the utter nonsense of such system that had caused David to lash out at them both, and confine himself to his room until Dave eventually managed to sort the damn cutlery exactly the same way it was before. After that incident they had never dared to tamper again with David’s peculiar way of rearranging objects, nor to confront him about any of his idiosyncrasies regarding food, colour, or texture; and when that time of the year drew closer for David to start working on their next wall planner, down to the company logo drawn by hand in the top-left corner, Tom would keep mostly to his own room so that he didn’t slip and drop a throwaway comment about the futility of the whole thing.

“Kettle’s just boiled,” he announced as he passed in front of David’s room, fancied he heard a grunt through the door by way of an answer. He could hear Tom playing the kazoo in the distance, though very quietly since the last time David had threatened to kill him as slowly and painfully as humanly possible – which, to be fair on David, was partly justified by the fact that he was having one of the worst migraines he’d had in ages at the time.

The music stopped as soon as he knocked at the door, which opened mere seconds after. Tom relaxed visibly as soon as he realised he wasn’t David, offered him a nervous smile as he let him in.

“It’s your lucky day, mate,” he smiled back, handing him one of the mugs. “Those teabags expired only a couple of decades ago, it still tastes pretty good all things considered.”

“Oh. That’s – good,” Tom replied, sounding genuinely pleased, if a bit confused. They weren’t exactly in the habit of bringing each other teas and coffees, but it was as good a time as any to start, or at least that’s what Dave believed.

Silence fell as they took a sip from their mugs, relishing in the warmth and the faint aroma of tea, reminiscent of the past and all the good things that once were. Tom was the first to put down his mug, carefully avoided looking him in the eye as he asked one crucial question.

“So – are you going to leave the bunker, then? Go and see the world outside?”

He sighed, stared at the rim of his mug that was slightly chipped in a few places. “I don’t know. One day, maybe. Not just yet, though.”

“What about Katie?”

Their eyes met at last, and he shrugged. “She’ll live,” he said at length. “I need to stay here, for now.”

He thought of David, crying himself to sleep in his arms; of the grim look in his eyes when he’d dared him to shoot him, his tone unmistakably approving of the fact that it would ‘toughen him up’. He couldn’t leave him after everything they’d been through, and he doubted that he ever would.

Tom started fidgeting, clearly reluctant to voice his objections. “I, um – what about David then? Are you two a, um – a thing, now?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” he admitted, somewhat tiredly. “We are, after all, talking about David.”

“Yes, well, it’s none of my business, is it?” Tom hastened to apologise. “Shouldn’t have asked, really.” A faint blush coloured his cheeks, and he cleared his throat, uncomfortably.

Dave stared at him for a long moment, a vaguely disturbing idea forming in his mind. “If this is about the sex, well, I’m sure we can – I mean, we could probably – come to some sort of arrangement, I guess?”

Tom nearly choked on his tea, looked at him as if he’d gone completely insane. “What? No! I’d never – I don’t even do sex. Never been interested, to be honest, and – shit, I’ll just stop talking now.”

Well, that explained quite a number of things, actually. “Oh, cool. So you’re – what’s it called? – asexual, right?”

Tom hesitated, the frown on his face giving way to some tentative relief. “I suppose so, yeah. Men, women – none of them did quite seem to float my boat, if you get what I mean.”

He didn’t, not really, but he was fairly confident he could at least try and imagine how that must feel. “Cool,” he repeated, for lack of anything better to say, and was rewarded with a warm grin that reminded him of the good old days, when the two of them used to hang out together after work, before the Big Headache happened.

If only they still had any beer, he mused wistfully, and went back to his now lukewarm tea.


End file.
